


my way home

by tookumade



Series: SportsFest - 2018 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15021023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: Matsukawa has been sitting at their freshly-placed dining table and staring at his copy of their new apartment keys forat leastan hour.(Hanamaki checks his watch. Okay, five minutes; same thing.)





	my way home

**Author's Note:**

> SportsFest 2018 Bonus Round 1 prompt:
> 
>  **Ship/Character:** Matsukawa Issei/ &Hanamaki Takahiro  
>  **Additional Tags:** oh my god they were roommates  
>  **TIME:** Move-in day  
>  **PLACE:** Their new dorm/apartment

Matsukawa has been sitting at their freshly-placed dining table and staring at his copy of their new apartment keys for _at least_ an hour.  
  
(Hanamaki checks his watch. Okay, five minutes; same thing.)  
  
“Issei,” he calls out from the kitchen. “Get in here; we need to figure out where to put all the dining ware and cutlery and stuff.”  
  
“Oh—” Matsukawa places the keys down and stands up. “Right, okay. Well, uh… cutlery in the top drawer. Bowls over here? We should probably buy some more…”  
  
“Cups over here?” Hanamaki opens one of the higher cupboard doors.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, sure… uh, what else did we have?”  
  
“Plates… are you okay? Are you tired?” Hanamaki asks. Matsukawa shakes his head.  
  
“No, I’m fine. Why?”  
  
“You’re really distracted all of a sudden. You were staring at your keys and then… oh my god, did you get hypnotised? Are the keys magic? Are th— _don’t push me, I’m holding fragile stuff!_ ”  
  
Matsukawa laughs as Hanamaki jumps away from his nudging, clutching the handles of four mugs in his hands (all of which are Hanamaki’s, because you can never have too many mugs).  
  
“I’m fine,” Matsukawa says again. “Really.”  
  
“ _Hmm…?_ ” Hanamaki squints and leans in exaggeratedly close to study his face. Matsukawa cups his face in his hands and kisses his forehead.  
  
“Come on, let’s get these put away.”  
  
“That’s what _I've_ been trying to get you to do,” Hanamaki points out, pushing his mugs into their allocated cupboard. “But _you_ got hypnotised by magic keys.”  
  
“Maybe I did,” says Matsukawa agreeably.  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Matsukawa smiles and shrugs. With both their hands free of any breakables, Hanamaki nudges him.  
  
“I’m _happy_ ,” says Matsukawa at last. He drops his gaze to the floor, but the smile on his face widens. “I was looking at the keys, and it hit me really suddenly that… you know… ‘ _oh my god, we’re roommates_ ’ and I just…” He gives a vague, helpless wave of his hand, and a little laugh, and chances a look back up at Hanamaki, who is staring at him with wide eyes.  
  
“You _sap_. That is _disgustingly_ sweet,” he says, and Matsukawa sighs loudly.  
  
“I’m sorry I said anything.”  
  
“No!” Hanamaki shakes a finger at him. “You’re not allowed to be! No take-backs!”  
  
“ _So_ sorry.”  
  
“ _Nope!_ ” It’s Hanamaki’s turn to cup Matsukawa’s face in his hands, and this time, they’re both barely fighting back laughter. “We have to do the couple thing and get matching keychains!”  
  
“That’s a couple thing?”  
  
“It is now. Maybe one of us can get a Mikasa keychain, and the other can get a Molten one. Or something. I have no idea where to buy them—sports stores? Ebay? Either way, we have to match!”  
  
Matsukawa’s hands curl around his own, and pulls them away from his face. “Why are you suddenly so excited about this?”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Hanamaki protests. “ _You_ are.”  
  
“Yeah, I am.”  
  
“No take-backs.”  
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
And for a moment, they don’t speak, standing in their tiny kitchen and smiling at each other like the world is just made of the two of them. Their hands are warm, dry from a day of moving into their new apartment, there’s a cluster of dust in Matsukawa’s hair and Hanamaki has two grey smudges across his face, the plates still need to be put away, so do Matsukawa’s own three mugs, and the two salad bowls that neither of them are sure where they came from—  
  
“Let’s keep going,” says Hanamaki, nodding to the boxes sitting on the kitchen countertop.  
  
Matsukawa presses their foreheads together for a moment and closes his eyes, before pulling away and saying, “Yeah, okay.”


End file.
